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There's a St. Patrick's day parade marching up 5th Avenue on one side of Central Park's granite wall, and a lonesome figure on the other, deftly playing along to the tunes drifting in from the street to the trees.

"That's a handsome camera you got there," he says as he takes a breather.

"Thanks, but not nearly as handsome you. What's your name?"

"I'm Jack."

Jack returns the flute to his lips and continues playing, perched atop a modest outcrop of bedrock in Central Park.

"Do you mind if I take a few photos while you play?"

"Of course not...just make sure some pretty ladies get to see my picture...don't keep it a secret!"

In the "The Faces I Love" photo essay.